


Grooming Session

by katychan666



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Moulting wings, Wing Grooming, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-12 20:46:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19236790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katychan666/pseuds/katychan666
Summary: Crowley is in a terrible mood - it is molting season and his wings are feeling bloody uncomfortable. Luckily Aziraphale is there to help him with the grooming.





	Grooming Session

''Ugh, these buggers,'' whined Crowley and spread his black wings out, flapping them slowly up and down, trying to releave some of the itchiness that he was feeling. Moulting season – he freaking hated the moulting season and he looked at his dishevelled wings, groaning because his wings felt bloody uncomfortable and there weren’t many things he could do to ease the itching. He tried getting most of the feathers out on his own, but there were parts of his wings that he couldn’t reach on his own and he was just scowling and feeling sorry for himself. How come the angel didn’t have any problems with that? They had known each other for more than 6000 years and not even once did he hear and see him complaining about it! Well, with the angelic miracles he could perform, he probably eased his discomfort that way.

Crowley was indeed in a terrible mood, even for a demon. There wasn’t a person that he didn’t snap at that day. He snapped even at Aziraphale a few times already and that was why he decided to just go home, spend the next few days there, locked away from the world with his plants and he sank down onto his sofa and just sadly watched his wings. If only he could get another pair of hands to help him get those bloody feathers out back there! Asking angel would be a good idea, but that was… _beneath_ Crowley. Being a proud demon and all made it very difficult for him to ask help from others, especially from Aziraphale and he huffed and puffed. Besides, the way he acted before he left his book shop – he wondered for how long Aziraphale wouldn’t talk to him this time.

So, Crowley slowly wrapped a wing around himself and gently started brushing his fingers through his wings, slowly pulling out a few loose feathers and he placed them onto the couch, next to himself and he then clicked with his tongue. But it helped, it helped relieve some discomfort, so he continued gently brushing his fingers through his feathers and was just talking to himself under his breath and was growing annoyed with himself more and more with each passing second. It was just-

Crowley slowly extended out the wing he was currently brushing and he slowly flapped with it, more feathers falling off and he whined, because there was no end to that. There were more loose wings at the back, where he couldn’t reach on his own. He wasn’t _that_ flexible even though he was a serpent and he crossed his arms on top of his chest, sadly looking to his other dishevelled wing and he bowed his head down, but then he got back to work, annoyance kicking in again. He was impatient, annoyed, angry and- _there was a knock at the door._

Crowley quickly tucked his wings and got up, feeling his anger bubbling up to the surface – why wouldn’t people just leave him alone?! In the end, he still made his way to the front door and opened it, already prepared to start hissing and yelling, but then he quickly deflated when he saw Aziraphale standing there and he backed down a little bit. “Angel?” asked Crowley and then arched an eyebrow. “What… why are you here?” asked Crowley and then folded his arms on top of his chest and Aziraphale looked down, biting on his lip.

“Well, I really hated how things were between us when you left,” said Aziraphale and Crowley felt guilt seeping in. “You just didn’t seem like yourself, Crowley,” said Aziraphale and then fiddled his thumbs together nervously as he didn’t know if he was invading Crowley’s personal space or not, but he wanted to be sure that the demon was okay. Something felt really off when Crowley left in a hurry before. “May I come in?” asked Aziraphale softly and Crowley wanted to slam the door into his face. The itching was back and he _hated_ the way he was feeling, but-

“If you must,” said Crowley and opened the door wider, Aziraphale happily clasping his hands together and he stepped inside of Crowley’s home. “Now what?” asked Crowley when Aziraphale was just silent and the demon bit his tongue, because there was a little disappointed look on the angel’s face and Crowley was tempted to punch himself. He was just making the whole situation worse.

“Have I done something to offend you?” asked Aziraphale softly and Crowley quickly shook his head.

“Of course not,” said Crowley.

“But you are annoyed with me,” said Aziraphale sadly and his shoulders slumped down. “Crowley, whatever it is, I’m sorry. Please forgive me?” asked the angel softly and Crowley was going to punch himself, he really was. But the bloody things on his back were now getting even sore; the longer he had them tucked away, the worse it got.

“It’s me, not you,” promised Crowley.

“Then what is it?” asked Aziraphale and Crowley’s stubbornness wouldn’t allow him to tell Aziraphale what was going on. The angel would understand, of course he would, because he went through moulting as well. But the fact was – Crowley was a demon, with a stubborn ego and he wouldn’t admit that the moulting got to him like that. For a demon he was weak and that was something he wasn’t ready to admit. It was embarrassing.

“Nothing,” grumbled Crowley and then walked away.

“Oh, I’m not stupid, Crowley,” said Aziraphale, then walking behind Crowley, following him into the living room. “There’s clearly something going on. Just tell me what it is, you do know you can share everything with me,” said the angel softly and Crowley rolled his eyes. “You’re grumpy more than usual. I mean, you snapped at me and you rarely do that,” said Aziraphale, doing his own little investigation, folding his hands on top of his chest. “Seems like you’re on the edge and allow me to- _oh,_ ” said Aziraphale as his eyes then fell onto the little pile of black feathers. Then it all became all too clear. “You’re moulting.”

“Yes,” whined Crowley and quickly spread his wings, because he couldn’t keep them tucked away anymore. “Wings are complete rubbish, I can’t get back there on my own, so it’s uncomfortable and I’m _this_ close to permanently cutting them off,” said Crowley, full on ranting. “I mean look at me, I’m like a dishevelled sparrow,” he said, some feathers falling off again as he flapped his wings. Aziraphale smiled and Crowley narrowed his eyes; why was the angel smiling? In reality Aziraphale was just happy that Crowley wasn’t really annoyed with him; it was just the moulting season to blame. “Why are you laughing for? It’s not funny, you should know.”

“Oh, I’m not-”

“How come you never suffer the way I do?” whined Crowley.                                                                            

“It’s all thanks to my grooming session technique,” said the angel happily. In fact, he loved grooming his wings, so the moulting season wasn’t all that hard for him. But Crowley was impatient, so-

“ _Grooming_ session?” whined Crowley. “But that takes _hours._ ”

“Yes, precisely,” said Aziraphale and Crowley rolled his eyes again.

“That’s a _lot_ of time,” pointed out the demon, crossing his arms like a child and the angel snorted.

“You know for an immortal being, you surely-”

“Get on with the point,” said Crowley. Aziraphale should be offended, but he wasn’t. In fact, he was only smiling when he was watching Crowley trying to speed up the process by furiously flapping his wings and in the end he decided to take pity on his soulmate.

“Crowley, let me do it for you,” said Aziraphale and placed a hand on Crowley’s shoulder, who froze at the touch and then looked at the angel, who gave him a little kind smile. That sounded like a good idea and Crowley only nodded. The angel instructed the demon to sit on the floor, while he went onto the couch, sitting behind Crowley. “Now then,” said Aziraphale, rubbed his palms together and gently placed his hand on top of Crowley’s right wing. “You just sit back and enjoy.”

Crowley didn’t say much in response. He mumbled a quick thank you and then he nodded, but kept his mouth shut and Aziraphale only smiled behind him and gently combed his fingers through Crowley’s feathers, gently tugging onto the loose ones again, reaching the place at the very back where Crowley couldn’t reach before. The angel’s touch felt _soothing_ , Crowley relaxed under the touches immediately and all of the uncomfortable feeling was gone; it was like Aziraphale pressed the off switch somewhere within him.

“How is it?” asked Aziraphale, but already knew the answer. Crowley was relaxed, no longer tense.

“Much better, angel,” whispered the demon and sighed happily when he felt Aziraphale’s hand again sliding over his sensitive wings. The moment was intimate; one could easily feel it. It wasn’t like Crowley to bare such a vulnerable side of him with just anyone, so Aziraphale proceeded with caution and didn’t make much comments. Crowley didn’t even allow himself to breathe, but then he exhaled deeply, relieved and _happy._

“This’ll take a while,” commented Aziraphale and Crowley looked around.

“I don’t… mind that,” said the demon softly and Aziraphale gave him a bright smile.

“Neither do I,” commented the angel. It was oddly comforting grooming Crowley’s wings even for him and he was softly humming a melody of a song and Crowley was grinning as he looked in front of himself again.

“Are you… using your angelic miracles?” asked Crowley, because that felt far too good and soothing. Crowley was completely relaxed and his body felt like it was floating. Aziraphale shook his head and then chuckled.

“No,” said Aziraphale. “It’s just the little old me,” he then added and Crowley didn’t say anything, sighing in relief when the angel brushed off more of the loose feathers and he then bit into his lower lip.

“I’m sorry about before,” suddenly said Crowley.

“I said it’s okay,” said Aziraphale. “I know how uncomfortable moulting season is so no need to apologise,” muttered the angel and Crowley slowly leaned his head back and looked up into Aziraphale’s blue eyes and they smiled.

“How about this?” whispered Crowley, reached up with his hand and pulled Aziraphale down, the angel getting flustered and then he took in a sharp breath when he felt Crowley’s lips up against his. It wasn’t their first kiss, but it sure felt like that to the angel, who kissed Crowley back and then quickly pulled back, face red and Crowley smiled. His angel kissed him back!

“B-back to work,” stumbled over his words the angel. “There’s still a lot of work to be done,” he added and Crowley only nodded, skimming his fingers over his lips. Aziraphale initiated their second kiss… that was all that was on Crowley’s mind and he couldn’t stop smiling.

For the first time in thousands of years he didn’t despise the moulting season.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :)  
> Leave a comment if you liked it :)


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